There were three men in the party besides Waco.  One of them claimed to be a carpenter, another an ex-railroad man, and the third an iron moulder.  Waco, to keep up appearances, said that he was a cook; that he had lost his job in the Northern camps on account of trouble between the independent lumbermen and the I.W.W.  It happened that there had been some trouble of that kind recently, so his word was taken at its face value.

In Phoenix, he was directed to the “headquarters,” a disreputable lounging-room in an abandoned store on the outskirts of the town.  There were papers and magazines scattered about; socialistic journals and many newspapers printed in German, Russian, and Italian.  The place smelled of stale tobacco smoke and unwashed clothing.  But the organization evidently had money.  No one seemed to want for food, tobacco, or whiskey.

The “boss,” a sharp-featured young man, aggressive and apparently educated, asked Waco some questions which the tramp answered lamely.  The boss, eager for recruits of Waco’s stamp, nevertheless demurred until Waco reiterated the statement that he could cook, was a good cook and had earned good money.

“I’ll give you a renewal of your card.  What was the number?” queried the boss.

“Thirteen,” said Waco, grinning.

“Well, we may be able to use you.  We want cooks at Sterling.”

“All right.  Nothin’ doin’ here, anyway.”

The boss smiled to himself.  He knew that Waco had never belonged to the I.W.W., but if the impending strike at the Sterling smelter became a reality a good cook would do much to hold the I.W.W. camp together.  Any tool that could be used was not overlooked by the boss.  He was paid to hire men for a purpose.

In groups of from ten to thirty the scattered aggregation made its way to Sterling and mingled with the workmen after hours.  A sinister restlessness grew and spread insidiously among the smelter hands.  Men laid off before pay-day and were seen drunk in the streets.  Others appeared at the smelter in a like condition.  They seemed to have money with which to pay for drinks and cigars.  The heads of the different departments of the smelter became worried.  Local papers began to make mention of an impending strike when no such word had as yet come to the smelter operators.  Outside papers took it up.  Surmises were many and various.  Few of the papers dared charge the origin of the disturbances to the I.W.W.  The law had not been infringed upon, yet lawlessness was everywhere, conniving in dark corners, boasting openly on the street, setting men’s brains afire with whiskey, playing upon the ignorance of the foreign element, and defying the intelligence of Americans who strove to forfend the threatened calamity.

The straight union workmen were divided in sentiment.  Some of them voted to work; others voted loudly to throw in with the I.W.W., and among these were many foreigners—­Swedes, Hungarians, Germans, Poles, Italians; the usual and undesirable agglomeration to be found in a smelter town.